Loving Carolyn Ch. 4

We made it to the office, only a little late, and to my dismay our first client of the day was there already. My routine was upset already. No coffee and Carolyn-on-the-counter this morning. This sucked. And it was all Cynthia's fault.

I suffered through an hour with Mr. Arlo "Junebug" Milum; reviewing his last will and testament for at least the fourteenth time. Every time one of his relatives pissed him off he had to make changes. Since this happened at least once a month, it was a steady income and I knew I shouldn't complain, but at the moment I wished Mr. Milum had his will up his ass. I told myself that I was providing a humanitarian service here; all Mr. Milum really needed was someone to listen to his complaints about his inattentive offspring. On the other hand, if I had wanted to be a psychiatrist or confessor, I would have gone into a different line of work. But income was income. And now I had an employee to pay. Carolyn was a partner; we split it all 50-50 and then put it into a joint account anyway. Including Cynthia in the system was going to be a big fat pain in the ass.

I groaned, just as Mr. Milum was describing the worthless nature of his nephew, "Buddy Roy". Suddenly he became concerned with my state of mind.

"Ah, hell, Counselor. It ain't that bad. The boy will straighten hisself out sooner or later. Mebbe I shouldn't be so rough on him, ya know?"

I nodded sagely. The "boy" was only 39, after all. "Perhaps just a warning, and not a complete change in your beneficiary list, then?"

Milum nodded vigorously. "Yeah, yeah. Put a scare into his ass, right? Mebbe you could make me a new will, leaving him out, but not sign it or nothing, and I could leave it around where people might see it...."

I groaned again, silently this time. I wasn't going to get out of drafting a new will after all. "I could do that," I said. "Provided that you really are considering making a change, and this is not something akin to fraud."

"Huh?"

"Yes sir, I can do that. But there will be some expense involved...."

"First off, I ain't no sir. I ast you a hunderd times to call me Junebug. Second off, ain't I always paid my bill, on time and in cash?"

"Hey, who's that new broad ya got out there in the front, anyway?" Mr. Milum leered. "Bondie; got no tits. You ain't trading in the wife for that, are yuh? Cuz if ya are, I'll be callin' on Miss Carolyn myself. Now there's a real woman; oh yeah. You young fellas don't appreciate it but I can tell you -- "

"I am well aware of my wife's charms," I said stuffily. "And I am certainly not planning on 'trading her in.'"

"Well, shee-it," Milum huffed. "I was just jokin' around, there. So what about Blondie, then? Mebbe she's lookin' fer a stiff one, huh?" He grasped himself lewdly with a gnarled fist.

"She may very well be," I said, trying to stifle a hysterical laugh. "I suggest that you try, Junebug. You really should."

Alone in my office, I kicked my shoes off and leaned back in my lawyer chair. Having done my bit to make the world a happier place, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander to thoughts of my enchanting wife. Carolyn. My obsession.

I had fantasized about her for so many years that it had become as natural as breathing. In high school, she was a golden glowing example of perfection to me. Exquisitely beautiful. Fascinatingly intelligent. Excruciatingly sexual, in some mysterious way that I could not begin to understand. And so very out of reach to mere mortals such as myself. I never really imagined that I would see her again, much less touch her, kiss her...then one evening I was confronted with a pop-up advertisement for "Classmates.com." Idly, I opened it...and there she was. I e-mailed her immediately, mentioning that I had thought of her often over the years. And she replied. And she was surprised, and perhaps a little interested, in a skeptical way.

As the weeks passed, she became less skeptical and more interested. Our electronic communications became frequent, then nearly constant; from e-mail to voice-chat. I asked her to visit me...and she accepted!

Time slowed to an inexorable crawl as we counted the days until she would be there, with me. She made no promises, but our conversations became increasingly erotic, and it was clear that we were both hoping for something more than dinner and a handshake. I still could not, deep in my heart, believe that it could happen...but I was finding it impossible to eat, or sleep, and my cock was perpetually hard. I masturbated at least twice a day during that time, and still could not rest without dreaming dreams of her that woke me with a raging hard-on, desperate for relief.

Then there had been the night that we had stayed up so late talking on the voice-chat line that we both fell asleep. There was a magical quality to that evening. I dreamed that she was there with me, soft and warm in my arms, and it was so real....

I sat up in my lawyer chair and flipped through computer files, looking for the e-mails we had exchanged before we were married. Yes, there it was. Early the morning after we had first "slept together," (together in my mind, at least – in fact we were 1500 miles apart), I had written:

My Love,

Last night I slept with you...your gentle breathing, so close to my ear, made it easier for me to imagine your warmth in my arms, and I felt happy and safe in your love. When you awoke and whispered my name, my heart leapt with joy. My Love. My Angel. My destiny....

When at last we regretfully parted for the night, you asked me to do something I had hoped to avoid...your husky whisper, "I want you to make yourself come for me," set my body aflame. I wanted you so desperately... my cock was a throbbing reminder of how I am drawn to your body like a moth to a flame.

Leaving you, I undressed quickly and lay down on my bed, fresh soft cotton sheets cool and smooth against my fevered skin. The room was lit only with the faint glow from streetlights outside, and I imagined it was candlelight. I took a small bottle of a special liquid, my cock jumping as I remembered you telling me, "That will feel most like me..." and I put a few drops on the head of my cock and rubbed it in. Silky. But not much like you...not hot. No sighs of passion. No arms about my neck...I want YOU, my Love. Only you. I put more liquid on the palm of my hand, and, curling my fingers around the head of my cock, pushed through my fist until I was gripping the hard shaft. "The most like me...." Is this how it will feel when I force myself into your tight pussy for the first time?

The head of my cock compressing, then expanding to fill you as it passes the incredibly small opening...a drop of my own liquid formed on the head of my cock and I touched it with one fingertip, imagining you tasting it with the tip of your tongue, savoring it as you hold my gaze. I tried to bend the hard shaft and more liquid seeped out. I slid my hand up, keeping it tight, feeling the spongy head compress again, then expand as I slid back down again. The sensation as I passed the most sensitive part made my hips lift off the bed involuntarily...imitating what will happen when you sit astride me and I am deep inside you. I slid my hand all the way to the base of my shaft, surprised once again at how smooth it is since I have clipped the hairs there. Only a slight fuzziness there now...when I can no longer control myself, and have thrust ruthlessly into you, my pelvis grinding against yours in hopes of getting even closer, you will feel this. A little prickly...maybe it will become softer before Friday. The head of my cock bulged and throbbed above my fist, now leaking copiously. I never knew it to do that, before...it is like I am constantly on the verge of orgasm. Instinct to come inside you, flooding you with my seed...claiming you for my mate. Just biology. But more here...a bonding of like minds, even more thrilling.

Slowly I stroked up and down, sometimes squeezing, sometimes relaxing my grip, imagining the first gentle rhythm of our exploration of each other. I could be holding you close to me, so close; our lips and tongues making love as well. Or you could be above me, my hands on your breasts, teasing the nipples; or, impossible dream, you might be taking me in your mouth as I bury my face in your delicious pussy. My breathing deepened, then became ragged as I tried to go slowly, but inexorably the tempo increased until my hand was moving rapidly on my needy cock. I forced myself to stop, gripping it tightly at the base, feeling my balls beginning to contract, wanting to come NOW but also wanting to imagine more fully how this will soon be a shared delight... The first twinges came; electric shocks from my toes to my scalp. Now I know I will come, it will happen when I allow it, I can wait for long minutes or even hours, or with a few deft strokes I can go over the edge...I imagined you having this power over me, and shuddered with the thrill of it. I know you will not satisfy yourself with anything but total mastery...I look forward to the day I realize that you are able to control my body better than I can.

I began to ache, relief becoming a necessity, but imagining how you will prolong this sweet agony until I am delirious with wanting you in whatever manner you choose. I let my hand move as fast as it wished, finally, my leg muscles stiffening to the point of cramping, my hips thrusting, so close, so close... The pressure built, and I felt my cock swelling, the head swelling even more, how good it would feel inside you now, penetrating ever deeper, seeking your center. At last the surge, starting deep within me, rising through me, until I erupted. I moaned your name as the first hot spurt hit the pillow beside my head...vivid flashes of imagination, in rapid succession. The look of wonder on your face as you feel me bursting inside you...your hand in place of mine as you watch me explode...you holding the tip of my spurting cock against your swollen clitty, rubbing it there until you come with me.

The crisis past, I was in a state of blissful relaxation. I stroked my cock more gently, hot sperm now lubricating it, aftershocks becoming too intense to bear much more...

You did this to me, Love...I am so grateful.

Brian

And it turned out that I had not even begun to imagine the passion and joy she would bring to my life. We had made do with stolen weekends; brief islands of respite in a gray sea of loneliness, until at last she had consented to be my wife. And then I really began to understand how feeble my lusty imaginings had been, compared to the reality of loving Carolyn full-time....

The intercom buzzed. Cynthia. "Uh, Mister B? Your wife wants you in the conference room. And she said I should lock the front door and go out to lunch. Is that OK?"

It was more than OK. Carolyn wanted me, in the conference room, alone...